


As Sweet as Justice

by Rachello344



Category: Death Note
Genre: M/M, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day, baker!L, photographer!light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 12:05:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6194527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachello344/pseuds/Rachello344
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Light had never in his life seen a more perfect man to photograph.  The owner of As Sweet as Justice was as good looking as his desserts, and just as perfect.  Light was enchanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Sweet as Justice

**Author's Note:**

> Written on tumblr for the prompt: "Oooh! How about lawlight where light is a professional photographer who is looking for inspiration, and sees L in a confectionary shop and goes "I need this magnificent creature on the opposite side of my lens" (whether or not L is actually a world famous detective is up to you)"
> 
> This one made me really happy, so I decided to crosspost it!

Light felt an uncharacteristic reluctance as he stood outside the otherwise innocuous candy shop. _As Sweet as Justice_.  It wasn’t exactly a new arrival—had been in business for a few years, actually—but it was gaining popularity faster than anyone could believe, spreading almost entirely through word of mouth.

Fast enough that a magazine editor Light knew, Ryuk, wanted an interview with the owner to serve as the center spread for their February issue. And, as Ryuk’s favorite photographer, he’d been hired to take pictures for the spread.

“Maybe some pictures of him making Valentine’s chocolate or something. I don’t know, Light, you’re the photographer.”

Light sighed.

The bell chimed cutely above his head as he entered. The décor was nice, mostly pastel blue with white trim.  Everything looked soft and comfortable.  There were plenty of high-schoolers sitting at the available tables.  Almost all of them were full.

Impressed, Light glanced at the display case by the register.

The sweets there were _beautiful_.  Cute and colorful, but also simple and elegant…  Light had never met the baker, but he could tell the man was an artist.  Even the candies—handmade, if the sign could be believed—were gorgeous.

Looking at them, Light felt like he was already eating something sweet.

“Hello. Would you like a recommendation to help you pick what you’d like?”

Light’s eyes dropped from the menu board to land on the most peculiar man he had ever seen. He was about the same height, but slouching slightly.  His hair was black and wavy, curling around the base of his skull and brushing his jaw.  He had dark circles under dark eyes that stood out in stark contrast against his pale skin.

He was perfect.

Light had never met anyone more pleasing to look at, no one as beautiful.

“I’d like to take your picture,” Light said, without meaning to. At the man’s bemused expression and sudden tension, Light took a step forward.  “Sorry, I’m here to take your picture, I mean.  Yagami Light.  Ryuk said you would be expecting me?”

The man’s posture relaxed and he smiled, a little rueful. “Ah, for the interview.  Why don’t I get you something to eat, and we can discuss when to take the photos after the lunch rush ends?”

“Oh, I don’t need anything. I’m actually not a huge fan of sweets.”

The man’s eyes seemed to flash with perceived challenge. “You’ve never had _my_ sweets.  I’ll find you something you’ll like, I’m sure of it.  First, I’d like you to try this,” he said, pulling a small slice of something out of the display case.  “It’s dark chocolate, so it should be more bitter than sweet.  After you eat it, you can tell me what you liked and disliked so I’ll be able to make something more to your tastes later.”

“You really don’t have to…” Light protested, eyeing the plate.

“If you really don’t want to, I won’t force the issue. I’d like to make something you’ll enjoy eating, though.”

Light sighed. “Okay.  But only because it’s small.”

The man beamed and clapped once. “Excellent.  I’ll come sit with you once things have calmed down a bit.”

Light took a seat and took out his notebook. Lawliet.  L Lawliet. _That_ was his name.  No wonder he’d forgotten; it was so strange.  Perfectly suited to such a strange man.

God, Light wanted to get him on the other side of his lens. His complexion was _perfect_.  He just wished he could take the pictures _he_ wanted, not the pictures Ryuk needed.  Maybe after this shoot, Lawliet could be convinced to model for him.

It would be easy to keep him anonymous in those, just needed something to cover the face, black paint over the eyes on the photo maybe…

Lawliet caught his eye from behind the counter and gestured to the cake.

Light rolled his eyes, but picked up his fork obligingly. The first bite he cut off was small.  The burst of flavor on his tongue compelled him to take a larger bite.  And then another bite.  And another, until he finished the slice.

He frowned at the plate in disbelief and regret.

The man was beautiful, and he could _really_ bake. _Shit_.  If he didn’t have his pride to worry about, he’d ask for another slice, but there was _no way_ he could ever admit defeat like that.  No matter how delicious defeat might be.

Light took out a pen and began writing out ideas for the spread, eyeing Lawliet to find angles that suited him best. (Almost all of them, but especially head on and from below.  He’d have to stand to check from above later.)

The light in the room suited him as well; soft but not weak lighting did something amazing for his skin. Light wondered if the kitchen had the same lighting.

As he was considering where to take the pictures, Lawliet sat down across from him and smiled.

“Did you like the cake?”

Light ignored the heat rising to his cheeks and nodded once. “You’re popular for a reason it seems.”

Lawliet snorted. “Hardly.  These kids just like bringing their friends.  Now I assume you have some idea now of what pictures you think will work best?”

“Yes. I glanced over the list of questions they’ll be asking you, and I think the photos should be of you baking,” Light said, turning one of his sketches around.  “Something like this would look nice as the cover, for example.”

Lawliet looked suitably impressed. “Ryuk said you were talented, but somehow I thought you’d be less an artist and more…”

“In it for the money? A sell out?”

Lawliet grimaced apologetically. Light shrugged.

“I get that a lot. This is my day job, so I won’t lie and say I love taking photos like this, but the pay is good.  Plus Ryuk gives me a lot of control over the final product, unlike most editors.”  Light glanced over his face again, longing for a starker contrast to bring out the darkness in and around his eyes.

“Then how early are you willing to get up for this?”

“Why?”

“If you want pictures of me baking, I do that at about four every morning. Six on Saturdays and Sundays.”

Light grimaced. “Why don’t I come in this Saturday?”

“That sounds lovely.” Lawliet smiled, just a soft curve to his mouth, nothing more.  “I’ll see you then.  And I’ll have something for you, so don’t eat breakfast.”  With that, Lawliet stood and gave a brief bow before heading into the kitchen behind the counter.

They weren’t the pictures Light wanted to take, but they’d do for now, he supposed. Better than nothing.

 

* * *

 

“So how long have you been doing this for?” Lawliet asked, leaning against the counter across from him and wiping his hands off on a towel attached to his apron.

“Taking pictures? Since I was a kid, but my first job was actually as a crime scene photographer for the police.”

“Seriously?” Lawliet leaned back, looking him over.  “I didn’t peg you for the type, although…  You know, Ryuk sent me a link to your online portfolio, and I must say, I probably should have expected crime scenes to be in your work history.”

Light laughed. “That’s fair.  My art tends to be pretty dark, I suppose.”  Light hesitated.

“Something you want to ask?”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d consider modeling for other photos, not just for this spread.” Light glanced away, touching the back of his neck.  “Your complexion, your eyes, they’re _amazing._ I’ve been fighting back inspiration since I met you.”

“Really? Me?  What kind of inspiration?”

“Uh, the kind that would lead to really weird dark pictures. I think a throne would be good.  Maybe a dead tree and some crows…”

Lawliet laughed. “I’ll think about it.  I’m pretty busy here, but maybe.”

Light smiled, still feeling a little embarrassed. But well, it wasn’t a no.

 

* * *

 

By the time they were finished, Light wished he had an excuse to see him again, any excuse at all, but he had nothing. He gave Lawliet his card—“In case you decide to model for me.”—but otherwise, unless he admitted that he was hooked on Lawliet’s sweets…

And he wasn’t _hooked_ , they were just the only sweets he’d ever enjoyed.  He wasn’t craving them, or wishing he could go back to the shop after work, or anything.  Of course not.

He sighed and leaned his chin on his hand, eyes tracing over the photo he was in the middle of editing. He and Lawliet were talking when something he said made Lawliet laugh.  The result was _breathtaking_.  His eyes were mostly closed, his head tipped back, hands gripping his mixing bowl, long fingers curled against the dark blue ceramic.

Light groaned. He should have just asked him out.  He wanted to take his picture, but he also wanted to make him laugh like that again, was starting to wonder what it would be like to kiss his smile…

God, he was such a mess.

 

* * *

 

He ignored his copy of the magazine pointedly, flipping it over so he didn’t have to see Lawliet’s gorgeous face anymore. But of course, he shared his studio space, so his studio-mate was bound to come across it.  When Rem did, she scooped it up and settled into an armchair to read it.

Light pretended not to notice, focusing on his new project. Misa’s face was not as pleasing as Lawliet’s, but making her look beautiful in whatever she was wearing was not difficult.

“ _And what about you? Do you have plans for Valentine’s Day?  A hot date maybe?_ ” Rem read aloud.  Light froze.  “ _Well, I don’t have a date, but I have someone in mind. He, uh, I think he could really light up my life.”_   Rem glanced up at him, an imperious eyebrow raised.  “ _Do you think he’ll read this interview?_

_“I hope so. If he does, I’m sure he’ll know I mean him.”_

Rem closed the magazine and set it down on the coffee table. She leaned back and considered him.

“Why are you working when you could be asking him on a date?”

“He might not have meant me, Rem. I’m not going to assume.”

“ _He could really_ light up my life,” Rem quoted.  “Tell me how that doesn’t mean you.”  She sighed.  “The way I see it, you have an actual chance with the person you’re interested in.  You should take it.  If I had even half your chance, I would make a move.”

Light glanced at the photo of Misa and winced. His fingers tapped out a nervous beat against the edge of his desk.  He checked the clock; the shop would be closing soon.  Maybe he could head over and…  And what?  Just ask him to dinner?

“You’re over thinking it, Yagami. He’s into you.  Just go for it.”

Light saved his work and rose to his feet. “I’m going to ask him to dinner.”  At the front door, Light paused.  “I know she spends a lot of time flirting with me, but she spends a lot more time looking at you while you’re painting, Rem.  I’d say you have half a chance.”

Rem rolled her eyes, lips just curving as she waved him away. Light went.

 

* * *

 

When Light entered the shop, almost everyone was gone. There were two boys left, sitting in the corner.  One of them—ghostlike with white hair and clothes, small build—was building a small city out of Legos; the other—a lithe blonde, pretty face, in black—was reading a file of some kind, frowning deeply.  When the one reading looked up, he frowned.

“Unless you just need something quick, I wouldn’t bother; he’s closing up.”

The ghost boy looked up from his building. His light eyes went wide.  He’d make a good subject for a picture, especially in contrast with his fine-featured friend.  If L knew them, he might ask about it later.

The ghost boy motioned the pretty boy closer and whispered something. Pretty boy shot him another look, appraising this time.

“Actually, he might be expecting you. You might as well wait here.”

The smaller boy huffed, impatient. Pretty boy probably hadn’t repeated his words correctly.  “You should go back,” he said, his soft voice barely carrying.  “He’ll be happy to see you, Light.”

Light nodded and did as he suggested. He didn’t ask how the kid knew his name.

The kitchen was still well lit, but it was absent of its usual chaotic activity: oven off, counters clean, appliances and utensils put away. L was leaning against a counter, his apron draped over his shoulder.  One hand held his phone while he bit the thumb on the other hand.  Light wanted to capture the scene, but he left his camera at the studio.

L looked up. As their eyes met, L smiled and put his phone away, thumb dropping from his mouth.  Light’s face felt warm; he smiled in return.

“I was worried you wouldn’t read the interview,” L said.

“I didn’t; a friend of mine did,” Light admitted. “She read your answer aloud and hurried me out the door.”

“What does she like to eat? I need to thank her.”

Light laughed. “I’ll ask her later.  More importantly, dinner?  The two of us?”

“That sounds lovely, Light. Let me finish closing up, and we can go.”  L set back to work, setting some things out for morning, taking care of a few little things, minor tasks.

“Who were those boys still in the store, by the way?” Light asked, eyes trailing after L. “The little ghost knew me and told me to come back here.  The pretty one told me to wait.”

L stopped his motions for a moment, snickering quietly. “Near and Mello,” he supplied after a moment.  “Near likes to make my new life here go smoothly; Mello would rather I come home.  I’m sure he would have interrogated you if you’d remained out there.”

L’s smile turned wistful.

“They’ve been working so hard, I probably will visit home someday soon.” L shook his head.  “Anyway, Near looked you up when I started talking about you.  He wanted to know as much about you as he could before he met you in person.”  L smiled.  “He likes your photos, the ones with the buildings and machines especially.”

“I’d be happy to take pictures of him, too.” Light shrugged.  “He’s not as perfect as you are, but he has a similar ethereal quality, especially in contrast with—Mello, was it?  They’d make an interesting picture.”

L chuckled. “You’d have to get them both to cooperate, first.  They can work together now, but only barely.  They’re a little too different, or too similar.”

“Not like us, then.” Light took a careful step closer, testing the waters.

L met his eyes and took a step. “No, not like us.”

Light’s breath caught and held in his throat, his eyes dropping to L’s lips, red from his nervous habit of rubbing and biting them. Light took another step closer, entranced and enchanted.  Was this moving too fast?  Light wasn’t sure; he’d never been so interested in another person before.

He wanted to know how L knew the boys, why he was away from home. He wanted to know if he was running _from_ something or _to_ something or if he’d found a way to stop running.  He wanted to know about his habits, his interests, what he did before he became a baker, why he considered this his new life.

He wanted to know _everything_.  It was exhilarating.

L took the initiative, cupping his cheek and pressing their lips together. Light sighed and melted against him, wrapping his arms around L’s neck while one of L’s hands settled on his hip.  He was sweet, like vanilla; he’d probably been taste testing even up to the end of the night.

“You didn’t spoil dinner, did you?” Light asked, breathless.

L brushed a kiss over the top of his cheek. “Don’t worry; I could eat.”

Light tugged him back into another kiss, long and lingering.

A loud groan startled him. He pulled away and glanced over his shoulder.

“Gag me with a _spoon_ ,” the pretty boy, Mello, whined.

“Good night, L and Light. Have fun on your date,” Near murmured before ghosting back out of the room.

“Come on, L, _this one_?  Why?”  Mello threw his arm out in a sweeping gesture at Light.

L’s hands, still on his hips, squeezed, thumbs rubbing absent circles. “Why not?  I like this one.  I like this one a lot.”

“Ugh, fine, but he has to eat dinner with all of us if you decide to keep him.”

L smiled, soft and fond. “Of course, Mello.  Good night.”

Light gave a bemused wave, watching Mello leave behind Near. “That was interesting.”

“They’re like my little brothers.” L pressed a kiss to Light’s other cheek.  “They both want what’s best for me, even if they don’t agree on what that is.”

Light sighed when their lips met again. “Sweet,” he mumbled, unthinking.

“I didn’t think you liked sweets,” L said.

“For you,” Light kissed him, “I’m willing to make an exception.”


End file.
